On A Blue Moon
by SerialAuthor
Summary: Major Character Death, Drugging, Murder, Sterek,


Derek kills Stiles on a Tuesday. It's a warm sunny afternoon with the slightest breeze flowing through the open windows and doors. Stiles is lying on the carpeted floor of the master bedroom in a puddle of his own blood. It's soaking into the white sheets that his mother bought him with the promise that he would use it when he fell in love.

He would have been so angry. He'd be in a bleaching frenzy.

Coming to himself Derek can only stare. It's a werewolf's nightmare to come back to this.

He can see it in his head how hard Stiles fought.

_The door shuts quietly behind him, and he takes the time to take a deep breath in. Stiles is home early, and the animal deep down within him is excited. They both hate it when Stiles leaves._

_He can hear Stiles singing in their bedroom, and hear the sound of movement like Stiles is dancing along to the Demi Lovato playing._

_Climbing the stairs Derek ignores the gnawing guilt telling him that on this Blue Moon he should be with the rest of the pack. That on this night, if there were ever a time that he could deal with his sister's teasing ways it would be this night._

_Stepping into their bedroom he watches as the human he loves move about the room with no acknowledgement for his presence. _

"_Oh my God, Derek!" Stiles yells when he finally does notice that he isn't the only one in the room. "What have I told you about doing your creeper stance?"_

_Derek just shrugs his shoulder and walks into the room slowly taking off his work suit as he gets closer to Stiles. And Stiles just stands there waiting for him with a smile on his face, and Derek wonders how he got so lucky._

_When they're kissing with Stiles wrapping his arms around his neck, and his coming to rest on Stiles' waist. He wonders how he lived some 20-odd years without this perfect person._

"_I'm not perfect, Derek," Stiles whispers against his mouth. "You've just been disillusioned by this very harsh world." Derek can feel the self-deprecating smile against the side of his face._

He then took it into his own hands to try, and show Stiles that he knew what he was talking about when he said that he loved him. That Stiles was perfect in every way, including his flaws.

Watching as Stiles fell deeper into slumber from the doorway of the bathroom Derek took the last pill that kept the Monkhood poison from completely killing him. He'd have to remember to get Stiles to pick up his refill.

The changes were immediate.

Derek was a born wolf in perfect control of his shift. It amazed even his parents sometimes when in the face of extreme stressors, such as his sister, that he could keep a cool head, and not change to deal with volatile factors, such as his sister.

So the fact that he was changing now was a problem. He's not on Hale land, and his Alpha is nowhere present to keep him in check on the Blue Moon. Wolves were even more voracious on this night. They were completely separated from their human selves, and were bloodthirsty predators.

Stiles.

Blood was seeping out of his eyes, ears, and nose. All he could think about was the warm unmoving body so close to him.

He looked at himself one more time in the mirror trying to control the change being forced upon him. Half his face was covered in fear and the other had the malicious smile of the wolf, and he could feel it spreading as well as see it as the smile spread from one side to the other. He was losing. He tried to call out to Stiles. Tried to warn him, but it went dark for him.

The wolf shook his head getting used to this full shift. It was rare that he was out completely with no regards to his other side and his humanity.

"Derek? What are you still doing up?"

Oh, he almost forgot about the human in the bed. He was too caught up in being unbound for once to remember that he wasn't alone. Stepping into the doorway he looked towards the bed. The human was pale, and glowing in the soft sheen of the moon.

The fear was quick, and delicious. He was too excited to wait any longer. Lunging forward he watched as the man stumbled out of the bed. He was nude. Good. The wolf didn't need the cloth getting stuck in his teeth.

The fight wasn't long, unfortunately. The human wasn't as big or as strong as any of the other human's that he had seen in his lifetime, so he really hadn't stood a chance.

Tearing into flesh greedily, the wolf wondered if the human thought saying his human name _Derek_ would really do anything to help him.

It was days before anyone came by. Derek hadn't moved, and his body was cramping from being stuck in the same crouching position for so long.

Stiles hadn't moved at all. Not that Derek had expected him to. Kind of.

The place reeked of death, and that's how Derek's mother will say that they knew at once that they only needed to look at the bedroom. No other place in the home had smelled as vile as that.

He doesn't know how he doesn't end up getting killed, or serving time but he feels as if he's stuck in hell. He knows he'll never find love again. Stiles was it for him.

That's something he knows with a bone-deep assuredness that no one will ever be able to get to him, or know him the way Stiles did.

And as bad as he feels for himself he remembers that he still has family. Stiles' father has no one now. Wife long dead from a progressive disease a small-town hospital was not equipped to deal with, and a son murdered and eaten by his werewolf husband. He remembers all those times now that the Sheriff had told Stiles to be careful.

They couldn't have an open casket for the wake. There was barely anything left for there to be put back in the shape of a human. For days that thought just tore up the inside of him, and disgusted him to a degree he has never felt.

"You don't have to leave." Looking at his mother he knows it's true. He needs to leave, and that's another truth. "The sheriff knows that you would have never done that to Stiles. You would have been with us on that night if there was even a chance of that happening."

"It's not that." His bags are packed. He doesn't know if he'll ever return to the place where he lost the most important person for more than a visit, but maybe one day he'll be able to look the Stilinski's in the eye again, and not feel so much guilt knowing that they lost their only child to a monster.

"Is it about what people will think? Everyone knows that you were poisoned. The whole town knows- knew that you were crazy about Stiles. They know you loved each other. The blame for this won't be on you. The hunters are already going through trial."

He gestures to the movers if they'd be able to take his bags to his car as he says goodbye.

"It's not any of that, mother, and you know that. I need to do this. I can't stay in the place that I called home without him here," he says into her hair as he pulls her into a hug.

"You could stay at the house," she whispers into his shoulder.

Huffing a laugh, he kisses the top of her head. "I don't think so."

He put all that he and Stiles owned into a storage space. He couldn't throw it away, or donate it. He'd just wait for the right time to bring them out again.

The last stop before he left Beacon Hills for the world he'd promised Stiles they'd see one day was the place he'd always call pack home.

Saying goodbye was hard, no matter if the one's you were leaving were dead or alive.


End file.
